


Three Days in August

by sassy_cat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cunnilingus, Doggy Style, F/M, First Time, Hand Jobs, Loss of Virginity, Mildly Dubious Consent, Older Woman/Younger Man, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sexual Content, Spanking, Vaginal Fingering, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 15:18:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/941476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassy_cat/pseuds/sassy_cat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Upon his death, Lucius continues to manipulate the living by utilising an old pure-blood law, which leads to significant consequences for Harry and Narcissa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Days in August

**Author's Note:**

> A special thank you to my beta, L, who put up with my fretting as I struggled to find my porn muse. Written for the 2013 hp_porninthesun prompt fest on LJ, and based upon a prompt: Narcissa wants to thank Harry for sparing her, Lucius, and Draco's lives... in secret. It's Harry's first time having sex, and she breaks him in SO GOOD. Get as sensual and sexual as you want, but I want them to have sex at least three times before Harry calls it quits. They must part amicably and agree never to tell.  
> 

Three Days in August

Harry flipped over and pushed his face into the cold pillow beside him and just above the empty spot in his bed, a spot that he'd recently discovered that he'd like to have filled with a shapely, warm body.

Squeezing his tired eyes shut, he tried to clear his mind, hoping to find some solace in his dreams. No matter how many times he'd tried, he couldn't forget the smell of her hair, a sweet alluring scent that she'd called lilac, or how the tips had tickled his chest when she rode him that first time.

His hips tilted with the memory, and he grimaced at the soreness. He twisted to try to find a position that wouldn't remind him of his aching muscles or how they came to ache. It was almost too much to wrap his head around… because of Lucius fucking Malfoy he was craving soft curves and chasing distant memories rather than sleeping.

Lucius Malfoy was definitely a conniving arse, more trouble in death than he'd ever been alive; him with his stupid traditions and stupid letters that in one weekend had managed to turn Harry's safe world upside down.

 

 

 

 

~ It began innocuously enough with a letter. ~

 

 

_Dear Mr Potter,_

__

 

_Per the instructions of the Last Will and Testament of Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, you are to be sent notice of your obligations forthwith. Within Codicil 12, Addendum 1, of said will, which addresses the Ceremonial Assessment Act of 1489, Lucius Abraxas Malfoy does hereby declare that a magical imbalance exists between the Malfoy line and Harry James Potter._

_Due to this public acknowledgment and successful consolidation as prescribed by the CAA, we respectfully request your presence at the Malfoy marital home on Friday, 5 August 2005 at four o'clock to negotiate the terms of balance. Mrs Malfoy will await your reply of acceptance._

__

 

_Regards,  
Theodore Nott, solicitor_

 

 

Harry looked up from the post wearing a worried frown. He hated receiving Owl Post so late in the afternoon. It was usually an omen that trouble was headed his way, and reading this letter, did nothing but set his nerves on edge.

Of course, he'd read about Lucius Malfoy's passing last month but hadn't thought to do more than send his condolences to the family. Since his promotion to Head Auror, he'd received plenty of lectures about nurturing positive relationships with people of all backgrounds, unity in the wizarding world and all that.

So when he'd read about Lucius, he'd sent off his owl with a sympathy note to the family as was proper and thought no more about it. Now to be getting this request, make that, demand to visit Mrs Malfoy gave him an uneasy feeling.

What was a magical imbalance anyway? He rolled his quill between his fingers as he wondered whether he'd ever learn all the things he needed to know to compensate for his Muggle upbringing.

Maybe Nott was having him on. He did enjoy a laugh, but from his appearances in court, Nott seemed to be a competent solicitor and too serious to joke about his job. Still, it sounded like nonsense to him, some sort of Death Eater prank.

He could almost hear old Malfoy saying, 'Mr Potter, you have a magical imbalance. There's only one thing to be done and that's to drain, ahem, filter all of your blood. If you'd be so kind as to follow me down to the dungeons...'

Snorting at the thought, he startled the owl sitting on his desk causing its wings to flutter. Poor thing, it probably had all kinds of emotional issues, having to live with Malfoy. He tossed it an Owl Treat, and noted that although it did nibble on the treat, its piercing eyes never left him— creepy owl.

Maybe Mr Malfoy felt that Harry owed the family because of how Mrs Malfoy lied to Voldemort on his behalf. Disturbed by that idea, he nervously chewed his bottom lip, thinking that could be a real possibility. Old Malfoy had always been a wily bugger, but surely, he wouldn't have waited until he died to lord that kind of debt.

He'd testified on behalf of Mrs Malfoy and Draco. Wouldn't that have satisfied any obligation? Harry hated not knowing what they wanted from him, but if Hermione found out that he'd bungled some obscure wizarding etiquette, he'd never hear the end of it.

Dread flooded through him as he imagined his study smelling of the sickeningly sweet mint tea that Hermione always drank in copious amounts whenever she was feeling particularly bossy. His normally tidy floor would be covered with marked up books about proper decorum, and she'd be wearing that disapproving look that made her look like somebody's mum.

Well, she was now, but not his and that just made the entire thing... odd. He loved her dearly, but those images, they decided it for him. He could do without any more helpful talks or concerned friends trying to guide his choices because they worried that he was too impulsive.

He was Head Auror on his own merit, and while young for the position, he could take care of himself. Writing up a quick reply of acceptance, he sent it off with the grumpy Eagle owl, happy to be free of the beast's judgemental stare.

The work that he had promised himself to finish was still waiting, and he'd run out of ways to put it off. He set to sorting through his backlog of files and paperwork, but his mind kept wandering back to the Malfoys and this magical imbalance thing. He gave up on getting anything accomplished and headed home. His appointment with Mrs Malfoy couldn't arrive soon enough.

The next day he left work early and tried on every pair of robes he owned. Twice. He finally settled on his best casual robes, a nice dark blue set that showed off his broad shoulders or so Hermione had assured him when she'd pressed him to buy them.

He took one last look in the mirror and ran his fingers through his hair. As he approached the fireplace and called out the address, he really hoped he wouldn't embarrass himself.

He sighed with relief when he managed to emerge from the Floo with more grace than usual, but that relief soon faded when he looked down and saw that he was completely covered in soot. After seven years as an Auror, it was second nature to survey any new room with a quick, practiced glance.

Malfoy manor, with its decorative mouldings and finely made furniture, reminded him how different his background was from that of the wizarding world's elite. Familiar feelings of inadequacy hit him like a Bludger.

The opulence and sheer elegance in every little detail made him feel like a little boy again. He could almost smell the lemon-scented cleaner that used to cling to his skin after he'd spent the afternoon polishing Aunt Petunia's knickknacks.

His childish efforts had been full of awkward incompetency that she'd taken great pleasure in pointing out, and although Aunt Petunia may have wanted to be upper class, there was no other word for the Malfoys.

Casting a quick Cleaning Charm, Harry managed to look presentable as Mrs Malfoy entered the room and greeted him with a small but polite smile. She wore stylish, well-cut robes that made her look enticing but classy. He'd never found a word for that, but he knew that women like her were out of his reach.

No matter how many times he'd received offers to share their company, the voice in his head wouldn't let him believe that they were serious. His stomach fluttered and his palms started to sweat. He wished he'd declined the invitation.

"Mr Potter, I'm so pleased that you could join me." Mrs Malfoy glided across the room with the kind of grace that he'd been told that he had on a broom, but looking at her, he somehow doubted that he'd ever managed it. She extended her hand in welcome.

Harry tried to channel his most confident feelings and carefully brushed his palm to hers in greeting. This was something that he'd practiced when he started working as an Auror because his superiors had made it clear that no one wanted to know that Harry Potter was just another wizard. No one could know he was occasionally a bundle of nerves.

Besides that, he didn't want her to know the effect she had on him. Who knew how she'd approach their situation if she knew that he'd harboured a crush since he was twelve?

She gestured towards the paned double doors to her left and said, "Please, join me for tea in the parlour." If she noticed his discomfort, she was too polite to let him know. Perhaps this wasn't going to be as bad as he'd feared. He followed her into an adjoining room that was decorated in soft pastel colours mixed with creams.

This was clearly a woman's room. He'd swallowed hard when he realized that he'd been invited into her domain. Maybe he was being too trusting after all, or maybe he was being paranoid. She might have thought any reminder of her husband would put him on edge. He took the seat opposite her near the fire, and waited for her to initiate the conversation.

She busied herself with the tea tray, and he watched her slim fingers gently lift a cup. "Strong or weak?" she asked, and for a moment, he wondered if she was asking after his health.

Feeling the warmth on his cheeks, he knew he must have been blushing. "Strong thanks. That's the only way it comes at Headquarters." She smiled tightly, and he wondered if he'd offended her.

"Milk or sugar?"

"Oh, no thanks. Plain is fine." She passed him a cup and saucer that had to be made of the thinnest china he'd ever seen. The fragile cup wobbled gently between his fingers as he imagined it slipping from his grasp and shattering on the hearthrug. Merlin, what if it was an heirloom?

He imagined Draco popping up from behind the chesterfield to chide, _'Potter, you absolute ruffian, that was great-great-great-grandmother Malfoy's wedding china! You've ruined the set!'_ The thought made him queasy. While he had inherited money, he certainly didn't know how to live the Malfoy lifestyle.

As Narcissa poured her own cup, adding a hint of sugar before the tea and milk, he wondered how long they'd play at these niceties. He certainly didn't want to keep holding this cup all afternoon. "Mrs Malfoy, I'm sorry to be rude, but I hope you can tell me what all this is about."

She glanced up quickly, seemingly surprised by his bluntness, but she took a sip of tea before answering, "The law that Lucius chose to address regarding debts requires us to cast a spell in tandem that will allow our magic to evaluate our magical imbalance."

This wasn't good. She was already talking about this imbalance thing as if it was a fact. "But there's no debt between us. You saved me, and I just did what was right by telling the truth."

She winced, maybe at the memories or maybe because of his words, he didn't know, but her face looked pained when she replied, "I'm afraid I will have to disagree. Lucius' will is a magical document, Mr Potter. Without a debt between us, he couldn't have merged the clause into the will. Magic always knows."

Harry sat his cup down onto the tray between them. This was becoming too real and he wanted a way out. He ran his fingers through his hair, a nervous gesture obvious to anyone who knew him as he said, "Mrs Malfoy, I don't understand. None of this is making any sense to me."

Her look was motherly and more sympathetic than he'd expected. She too placed her cup upon the tray, and stood before saying, "Then I must begin at the beginning. If you'll follow me to the library, I'll show you a book that will explain the spell. It's old magic, ancient really, and was once used to reconcile estates rather than the written wills that we tend to use today."

Harry grimaced. Ancient magic had never done him any favours. Well, except for his mum's study of protective Charms. Old magic was often considered dark because it caused unforeseen consequences, things that had once been acceptable but now seemed barbaric. He knew this too well because he still had the scar to prove it.

Despite his misgivings, he followed her, knowing that he needed to understand the latest bit of magic trying to rule his life. The library was impressive and thankfully, free of any pastel colours.

Hermione would have given up her cavity-free teeth to have access to a room like this. Books lined the walls, and there was no doubt in his mind that he if raised his voice that it would echo. The room had to be bigger than the Burrow.

Mrs Malfoy led him over to a large red book already open to the needed page. "This will tell you all that you need to know. I'll leave you to read it, but know that if we don't cast this spell our magic will be affected. The consequences are listed, and they're unpleasant." She paused, hesitant. "Mr Potter, be certain to read it in its entirety. I'll give you some time to yourself."

"Wait. What do you mean our magic will be affected?"

She ran her fingers over the old tome as she answered, "The spell will show us what needs to be done to level the debt between us. You were correct earlier. Neither of us is in debt to the other by modern standards, but where magic is concerned there is something that we each owe the other. The magic of the spell will consider that and give us what we need or deserve. If we choose to ignore a debt that has been acknowledged, well, I'll let you read about that."

"So how will we know when it's satisfied?"

She smiled shrewdly, "Oh, you'll know. The magic of the spell weaves itself into the caster. I know that you aren't fond of pure-blood traditions, but some things are a matter of honour. Lucius, for all his faults, intended the best when he chose to add this to his will."

"Mrs Malfoy—"

"Narcissa, please"

It was clear that he was going to insult her if he didn't comply. "Err, Narcissa, this is something that we have to do, isn't."

Her smile was catlike as she answered, "Yes, I'm afraid so, but I assure you that it's not a malignant spell."

He looked into her eyes and knew that she was being honest. Decision made, he answered before he could change his mind. "I'll do it."

She startled, clearly taking aback. "You haven't read about the spell yet. I'd feel better if you did."

"No, you say it isn't an evil spell. I believe you. You deserve that much after proving that you wouldn't betray me." She looked a bit embarrassed at that. He must have been too forthcoming again. He'd received loads of lectures from Dawlish about being too candid.

"I did that for Draco, not that I wished you to fall that day, but my motivations were driven by my need to know of Draco's safety."

Harry felt his face heat again. "I'm sorry I made you feel uncomfortable. I did know that, but you could have found out what you needed to know and left me to die. You didn't, and I'll never forget that kindness."

She smiled again, and he knew he'd put things right. She adjusted the sleeve of her robe and swept a loose curl behind her ear. "If you're truly ready to follow the tradition then come upstairs and cast the spell with me."

He knew trusting her was the right decision, but his stomach still tightened at the thought of what could happen. "Yeah, okay, I can do that."

"Delightful. Mr Potter, if you'll come this way, I'll show you the wand movement that goes with the incantation."

Her formality reminded him that he'd been rude and failed to invite her to use his first name in return. Sheepishly, he added, "Umm, call me Harry."

She turned back to catch his eye, and he saw her own twinkling with mischief as she replied, "Very well, Harry."

She led him through the corridors of the manor to what appeared to be her private wing. As they travelled deeper into the house, the art and furnishings began reflecting her personality. Everything was warm, sedate and tasteful. It occurred to him that underneath her pubic façade she was an interesting woman.

They reached a suite shaded in blues with cream accents, and she gestured for him to precede her. The far wall was filled with large windows that ran along the length of the room from the ceiling down nearly to the floor. The sun was shining through warming the room, and he walked straight to them like a moth to a flame.

It took him a moment before he could look away from the view to notice the large bed against the back wall. Harry felt his chest tighten and his mouth go dry as he struggled to speak without his voice cracking. "Mrs Malfoy... Narcissa, why are we in your bedroom?"

She smirked clearly amused by his unease. She pulled a silver comb from her hair and blonde curls cascaded around her shoulders. "The spell often requires a physical payment. That may not be the case with us, but I thought it best to be prepared."

"Umm, what?"

She laughed and looked younger like how he remembered her from the days when she and Mr Malfoy would bring Draco to catch the train at Platform 9¾. "You heard me. We won't know until we perform the spell. Are you still willing?"

"I guess, but are you sure we should do this?"

"You know the answer to that as well. It's in the will, and we will be compelled by magic to complete the spell. What magic wants will be done because it's greater than any single witch or wizard."

Apprehension washed over Harry, the sort of feeling that he got on assignments before he entered a dark building without backup. Trying to shake off his fear, he answered, "I have a bad feeling about this."

"Nonsense. I've told you the spell is a positive one. The wand movement is two right swirls and a quick downward swish. The incantation is _Aequat Omnes Magicae_ , and we need to face each other when we complete the spell. Are you ready?"

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be." Harry walked away from the windows and back towards Narcissa. When he was about a foot in front of her, he pulled his wand and waited for her to do the same. Together they chanted the spell and a swirl of silver and gold light enveloped them, leaving him feeling dizzy and unsettled.

He felt her hand on his arm as she guided him to a brocade chaise. "We need to sit. You're a very powerful wizard, Harry. I always knew, of course, but I hadn't expected the spell to be so overwhelming." She felt warm as she rested against him, each somehow supporting the other.

"So you feel it too?"

She sighed and shifted beside him. "Yes, and we won't able to put it off for long."

"Put what off?"

Narcissa turned to him with a shocked expression. "Can't you feel the need to be near each other? Our balance is definitely going to be found with the physical."

"No!" Harry cried and he rushed to stand up, still unsteady but needing to move away from her. "This can't be happening."

She remained frozen on the chaise, concern etched across her face. "What's wrong? You knew that this was a possibility."

"Narcissa, this is coercion! Magic can't make you do something like this! I can't be a party to it. In fact, I think I may need to go the Ministry and see about having this law taken off the books."

At that, she started to laugh and lounged back on the chaise looking every bit the goddess holding court. "Don't be silly. It's the old ways. One of the things Lucius was fighting to save. It's _never_ going to be removed from wizarding law."

Outraged by the thought that a husband would settle a debt in such a way, Harry lashed out. "Gifting his wife to pay a debt on her back is a right he wanted to save? The bugger was more evil than I thought."

She stiffened and her tone turned icy. "Please don't speak ill of my husband."

His anger faded in favour of embarrassment, and Harry replied softly, "I'm sorry, Mrs Mal— Narcissa. This is more than I expected."

Some of the fire left her eyes, but her tone remained curt. "Understandably so, but may I ask why you're distraught? Do you prefer men? If so, I will call Draco home."

Harry flinched at the thought. "No! I mean... I like women. It's just that I don't ever want to be with anyone who's forced into it, even by some law that she says she supports."

She smiled and laid her head back, letting her hair pool around her. "That's all the more reason to find you appealing. What's the cause of that blush, Harry?"

"I mean, it's weird… you're Draco's mum, but that's not really it. I haven't... I can't. Merlin," he groaned, "I don't want to have this conversation."

She stood and walked over to a table holding glasses and a carafe of wine. "Well, we must. Neither of us can leave the manor until the spell has been satisfied." Pouring a glass, she handed it to him and added, "Here, drink this. It will help loosen both your tongue and your nerves."

It was smooth, rich and as delicious as he bet her lips tasted. Merlin's scroat! He was lusting after Draco's mum. He turned away unable to look at her. She couldn't find out that his cock was tenting his trousers under his robes. That would be beyond awkward.

"Harry, we must do this, and you'll find that I want it as much as you. It will comfort you to know that this is about more than sex. Magic wouldn't demand something so simple, so vulgar to balance us. The physical acts will help us find what we truly need."

He set the glass back onto the table. "This is so embarrassing." He hid his face in his hands, wishing the floor would swallow him up or Lucius Malfoy would walk into the room and invite him down to the dungeons after all.

"What's embarrassing?" She asked with a soft, melodic tone. He'd wager that woman had attained everything she ever wanted with her charm alone. "It can't be that bad."

"I'm a virgin," he mumbled, feeling mortified to have to confess it.

Her voice softened as she said, "Thank you for telling me. Is there a particular reason why you've remained so?"

Still hiding behind his hands, he felt her gently touch his hair and slide her hand down to the back of his neck. Her touch make his skin tingle, and he leant into her warmth. "Not really, I just never found anyone that I could trust to want me... just me and not some image that they'd conjured up while reading _Witch Weekly_."

Her fingers twirled into his hair soothing his nerves. "Now, that is a mature reason. I can understand that you'd want to protect yourself, but Harry you can't live in fear." She pulled his hands from his eyes and forced him to look at her. "You know that I'm not besotted by the persona of the Boy Who Lived. Although, I'm quite fond a young man who chose to show my family a kindness when he was the most popular and powerful wizard of the day, you could have done as you pleased, sought your own justice."

"I did what was right."

"Perhaps, but there are plenty of wizards who'd have relished the opportunity to destroy a schoolboy nemesis, yet you testified for Draco and explained away his bad choices. You grew into a man of convictions, and that's nothing to dismiss. You, Harry Potter, undervalue yourself."

He grinned and tried to keep the tears from pooling in his eyes. He'd never been the crying sort, and he wasn't going to start now because of a bit of kindness. "Thank you for that. It was a nice thing to say."

She ran her fingers over his cheekbones and gave him a soft kiss, nothing more than the brush of lips. It tingled and he wanted more. Pulling her close, he felt the magic of the spell luring them together. He could almost feel her desire for him as strongly as he could feel his own.

It was overwhelming, but he kissed her properly, and slipping his tongue into hers. She was warm and tasted sweet like candyfloss. He ran his fingers up the sleeves of her robe, brushing her soft hair off her shoulders so that he could feel the smooth skin at the base of her throat.

She was a tiny woman, fragile under his fingers, and he had the urge to ravish her, to kiss her from head to toe. She broke the kiss and gave him a smile that he'd never had directed at him. Pulling him by the hands, she led him back to the chaise and coaxed him to lie back.

His heart nearly stopped when she pulled her robe up to her knees and carefully straddled him. He'd seen more leg on any number of girls, but his heart pounded as he imagined how she was going to show him much more.

She wasn't even touching him with her thighs, but his cock was already aching in his trousers. He was afraid that if she so much as brushed against it that he would come in his pants.

"Narcissa... Narcissa, wait. I need a minute."

She looked down at him, and he gulped as he took in her lustful gaze. Instead of answering, she started to unbutton his robe and the shirt underneath. When she got to his bare chest, she ran her fingers through the hair that swirled everywhere. She seemed entranced as she explored his body, caressing and running her fingers over his quivering muscles.

Bending down and pressing her breasts against him, she kissed him. This time the kiss held promises of things that he couldn't name but somehow knew existed. She kissed his neck and sucked his earlobe, stealing away each breath that he was desperately gasping to keep. She was everywhere, consuming him with her passion and her touch.

Her nose nuzzled his collarbone, and he felt her hands reaching for the buttons on his trousers. She had them opened and spread before he could object. She kept kissing his throat, his chest, and oh god, his nipples. Licking her tongue over the little nubs that he never knew were so sensitive.

Her hand found his cock, and she gently squeezed and pumped him as she ran her tongue over his body, making his magic sing. Too soon, the sensations became too much. He felt his balls tighten and warm liquid hit his abdomen.

Her kisses lost their urgency, but she kept peppering his body with gentle touches until she was once again kissing him on the lips. When she pulled back, her eyes were soft, and he couldn't read the emotion in them.

He knew that he had to kiss her again because that was the only way he was certain he could properly express what he felt. He nibbled on her bottom lip and slid his fingers into her hair for the first time. Holding her steady, he hungrily kissed her until she relaxed into his arms.

When he finally released her, she laid her head on his chest and he stroked her hair. The silky texture felt soothing under his fingertips, and the reality of their situation hit him. "This is just the beginning. Isn't it?"

He felt her smile against his chest. "Yes. We must share our bodies and feelings until our magic believes we've completed our task. We will have to be open and honest about our needs and desires."

The weight of her body against his was a new sensation. She was soft yet firm and he itched to rip open her robes. He wanted to see her breasts, suckle them and lick the tips to see if she would gasp as much as he had when she'd done those things to him.

She shifted in his lap, and he realized that he was hard again. He wanted to ask for more but he didn't know how... He had no idea what he should say or if he'd really be welcome.

"I can feel you thinking, Harry." He stiffened beneath her. "Open and honest, remember?"

"I want to see you naked," he blurted out, hoping she wouldn't be angry.

She sniggered in a way that reminded him of Ginny. It was playful and teasing but without the malice that he'd grown up knowing. "That's inevitable, but thanks for the reassurance. Come to bed, Harry."

Holding up his trousers with one hand, he followed her to the bed and watched as she pulled back the blue duvet before she started to slip out of her robes. She slowly removed each item and carefully draped them over a chair.

When she was down to her under things, she noticed him frozen in place staring at her body. "I suppose I shouldn't have waited until now to ask you if my age bothered you. Would you rather I draw the drapes?"

He was shocked to discover how much he wanted her. She was older than any partner that he'd ever held in his fantasies, but she had a lovely shape that made his cock take notice. He moved closer to run a finger along her bra strap. "No, not at all. I like the way you look in the sunlight."

Her breasts heaved, and he couldn't resist running his finger alongside the edge of the cup. He wanted to slip his fingers underneath and pull back the cloth. "Narcissa, I think that you're still wearing too much."

She reached up and slipped the straps of her bra off her shoulders, giving him more access but still hiding her nipples. Her voice was soft when she whispered, "It's only fair that we get you undressed as well."

She pushed his shirt off and knelt down to slip off his boots. When he reached out to steady himself, the skin on her shoulder felt hot under his hand. As soon as the boots were gone, she took the trousers from his grasp and pulled them down with his shorts, leaving him naked and aroused.

"I see you've recovered. Let me show you how delightful I think you look." Before he could answer, she was swirling her tongue around the end of his cock and sucking him deep into her mouth. She licked and sucked while rolling his balls in her palm. Just when he thought he was going to come, she pulled off with a pop and pulled him into the bed.

She ran her fingers over his shoulders and down his arms. "Would you like me to teach you how to please a woman?"

His mouth went dry but he managed to croak, "Yes, very much. I'll try anything you want."

Taking his hand, she ran his fingers down to the edge of her knickers and dipped them below the elastic. "Slip them off then move down between my legs."

He was so nervous that he was near shaking, but he thought she'd forgive him if he bungled it. He pulled the silky fabric down and watched her wriggle her hips and thighs to help. He crawled up between her legs and whispered, "Okay. Now, what do I do?"

She gave him a wicked smile and reached out for his hand. "Give me your fingers. Feel there. That's my vagina. You're going to put your hard cock in there soon, but first I want you to try to help me orgasm by stimulating my clitoris. It's the little bump that you'll find right _here_."

He watched in fascination as she used his fingers to circle the little bump, occasionally running the tip of his finger over the top. She was clearly enjoying herself but he felt like he should be doing more than letting her use his fingers. "Can I put my mouth there too?"

She opened glazed eyes and murmured, "Please do."

He tried to do with his tongue what she'd been doing with her fingers, and she seemed to like it even more. She was writhing beneath him, squirming when he would flick his tongue in just the right way. He held her hips steady and tried in earnest to make her scream in pleasure.

He kept at it until he heard her gasp, "Harry... yes, like that… yes!" Her legs were shaking, and he hoped that he was doing it right. He was about to pull away when she grabbed him by the hair and pulled him up for a kiss and pleaded, "In me, now."

He didn't have to be told twice. He grabbed his cock and tugged down hard. He wanted to be inside her but he didn't know if he could last. Narcissa grabbed his shoulders and pushed him onto his back. Her eyes looked a little wild, as she demanded, "I said, in me _now_."

She climbed on top of him and slid down onto his cock. He couldn't catch his breath because she felt so good, so wet and tight around him. She kept rising up and the grinding down on him. He knew he was going to come too soon, but he couldn't control the pace. All he could do was grip at the sheets and let her do as she pleased.

She rocked faster and faster until his world was focussed on bouncing breasts and moist heat. He cried out his release, and she leant forward to kiss him, pushing her breasts against his chest and stealing his breath.

"Well done, Harry. Well done," she whispered against his throat. He reached up to run his hands down her sides, and realized that he'd barely touched her.

"Next time, I want to touch you. I want to try and make you feel good."

She gave him a pleased look and said, "You made me feel good this time. I promise. And, you can touch me all you like. But now, I think we might consider getting some dinner."

He could barely eat his food as his thoughts raced with plans to explore her body. When they stumbled back into bed, she let him take the lead. He kissed her softly and finally found out that her breasts were as sensitive as he'd hoped. He tried his best to make love to her like a woman as beautiful as she deserved.

She held on to him, wrapping her legs around him, helping him keep a steady pace. After, she held him close, running her fingers through his hair. It felt weird… he didn't know what to make of Narcissa. Here was a woman who could boldly lie to Voldemort and fiercely defend her son, but she was also a woman who was willing to fall to her knees and make him howl while she sucked him dry.

His mind was racing despite the amazing orgasm that he'd just had. He couldn't help but think of how she was no Mrs Weasley but she was still somebody's mum. Was she embarrassed about teaching him… turned on by his lack of knowledge? His thoughts had gone wonky.

Merlin, but he needed to get some sleep if they were going to do the things that she'd babbled in his ear when he sliding in and out of her tight heat. The smell of her perfume was still clinging to her beneath the smell of sex, and it was as subtly arousing as her breath against his neck. The smells and sensations were too much for him.

His sore prick twitched, and he groaned as it started to stiffen and rub against her soft sheets. Her warm laugh, a sound that he was getting all too comfortable hearing, made him glance toward her. She met his gaze with sleepy eyes and whispered, "Go to sleep, Harry. Any more tonight and neither of us will want to get up for breakfast."

He pulled her close for a tender kiss and tried again to empty his mind.

Breakfast was noteworthy only because she brought their fruit and cream back to the bedroom. She showed him useful ways to enjoy dessert before noon, and two orgasms later, she was licking the inside of his thigh and whispering her most private desire. In that moment, he would have promised her anything.

Now, she was on all fours with her firm arse sticking up in the air. Harry tried to ignore his cock in favour of giving her what she said she needed. He rubbed the left cheek and pulled back to swat it again. She'd said she wanted his prints on her bum, and he was doing his level best to comply.

Each time he struck her, he would feel the tingle on his palm and imagine how it must sting her tender cheeks, and his dick would throb. So far, this was the most erotic thing they'd done and no fluids had been exchanged. It was amazing… this woman was amazing.

He spanked her until his hands ached and her arse was bright pink. Then on impulse, he leaned in to kiss the reddened skin, and her gasp told him that he'd done something right. He peppered her bum with little kisses until he could smell her arousal. He'd only had one go at kissing her cunt and wasn't about to miss another chance.

He put a hand on both cheeks and pushed her arse a bit higher. He ran his tongue around her exposed folds and began probing her with his tongue. She moaned and he knew once again that his instincts were right. Pulling back, he flipped her over and dove back down on her, this time taking special care to caress and lick the tiny nub she'd shown him the night before.

"Yessss," she groaned when he found a good rhythm. He decided that he wasn't going to fuck her until she begged. She quivered and writhed under his touch, only his tongue lapping and a bit of suction would get her off.

It was exhilarating to have the power to give her this kind of pleasure, and he savoured the ways her legs squeezed his shoulders as she shook beneath him. He kept licking and teasing until she gasped, "Harry! In me now, you have to be ready. Fuck me, now!"

Pushing up, he crawled over her and settled between her legs. When his cock rubbed against her wet sex, he knew he wanted to pound into her, rough and dirty. She must have read his thoughts because she urged him. "Do it, Harry. Fuck me like you mean it."

And so he did. It was nothing like before when she rode him or when he explored her body. This time he devoured her, covering her with his body and hungrily taking his pleasure. He loved it.

He moved inside her, savouring her wet heat and the way her body seemed moulded for his cock. He wasn't about to let it end too soon. He slowed his movements and sucked on her nipple. Reaching between them, he searched for the little bundle of nerves that made her go wild.

He loved the way she tightened around him when he rubbed just right. That first time, she'd told him to try to please his partner, and from the way she was clawing at his back, he agreed it was good advice. When she fell back onto the bed, exhausted from her orgasm and arms flung above her head, he turned her over and pulled her up to take her from behind.

Looking at her reddened arse sent his arousal soaring to new heights. He pounded into her, digging his fingers into her hips and making her moan into her pillow. He spilled inside her and collapsed, pulling her onto her side so that he could hold her without pulling out.

After that, the day passed in a blur of toys, positions and showers for two. He couldn't get enough of the feel of her. He wanted to crawl inside her skin and never leave.

When he woke the next morning, he looked around the room and marvelled over what they'd done for the last two days. He'd had sex, a lot of sex, with Narcissa Malfoy.

He rolled over to watch her sleep and realized that he was smitten. The sun was starting to come through the windows, and the morning light revealed a few strands of grey hair that were mixed in with the golden. A week ago, he'd have said it made her look her age, but now it was another thing that made her beautiful.

She stirred, and instead of looking away, he studied her, enjoying the chance to watch her wake. She squinted into the light and rolled over to hide her face in her pillow. He laughed at her antics. It had only been two days, and he already knew that she hated mornings.

"Wake up, Narcissa. I expect to ravish you," he mouthed against her shoulder.

She stiffened and sat up, reaching for her wand.

"What?" He panicked and sat up too, eyes wide with alarm.

She swirled her wand, muttering a spell. "The spell is broken."

He wiggled his eyebrows and nibbled her ear before whispering, "Does that mean that I don't get to ravish you?"

Pushing him away, she laughed and fell back onto her pillow. "I think it's better if we talk. We've each gained or learnt what the spell intended."

Harry frowned. How could she just throw away what they'd shared? "But I want you. I think we could be good together."

She sighed and turned onto her side to look at him. "It was a spell, Harry. You know that I'm still mourning for Lucius."

He stared at the ceiling and wondered how it could have gone all wrong. She seemed to think that he didn't really want her, but he knew that he had feelings for her. He started to feel a little angry. "The spell made me fall in love with you, but you don't want me? How is that a good thing?"

She gave him a gentle smile, showing the lines around her eyes. She reached out and took his hand. "No, Harry, this isn't love. What you're feeling is intimacy. I promise you that the two are very different."

He laced their fingers together and groaned, "I don't understand."

"I know you don't, but I think that's what the spell required."

"That I don't understand?"

Her tittering laugh made chills run over his body. "No, that you needed to feel close to someone. You are a fit, successful young man who's shut himself away from the world. You needed to feel safe, Harry. I think the spell wanted to give you a taste of what you could have if you tried to find a love of your own."

He still felt a connection to her, but had to admit that she knew more about love and intimacy. Wondering what she'd received from the spell, he asked, "Okay, maybe you're right, but what about you?"

"I got reminded that my body is still attractive. I rediscovered a part of me that I thought was lost forever when Lucius passed." She sat up and put a hand on both sides of his face, holding him so he would have to meet her gaze. She looked into his eyes and whispered, "You made me feel desirable when I wanted to do nothing more than crawl into Lucius' grave. You've helped me heal."

His heart ached, but he wasn't certain if it was for what they'd lost or for the pain she'd felt this last month. Taking her hand, he pulled her from the bed and gently kissed her temple.

She slipped on her dressing gown, and he knew it was a cue to leave even as she politely asked, "Do you want to stay for breakfast?"

He searched underneath the bed for his shirt before answering, "No, I need to get home. I've got work early tomorrow, and I've a lot to process."

"I understand. Thank you, Harry." She paused, and when he looked up and caught her expression, he stopped buttoning his shirt. She said, "I hope we'll be friends."

She had such an insecure look about her, not at all like the Narcissa who'd been with him all weekend. After the last few days and the things she'd taught him, he'd thought her incapable of the feeling. He wanted that look to go away. "No, Narcissa, we're not going to be friends because we were friends all along... I was just too young and dumb to know it."

And just like that, she was once again the radiantly confident Narcissa that he'd come to know. He had to smile. The woman was a force to be reckoned with... maybe it was just as well that she wasn't meant to be his. He would never have been able to keep up with her.

He wondered if she really meant it when she said she didn't want to be with him. He'd be a fool to leave without finding out. "Narcissa, would you consider going with me to the Ministry Ball? Only as friends, of course. Since my promotion, I'm expected to have a date."

She paused brushing her hair, seeming to consider it. She had a faraway look. "Draco would be livid. I don't think that would be fair to him under the circumstances."

Pulling on his trousers, Harry laughed at the idea of Draco's reaction. "Why do you think I asked? I'm not his friend!"

She smiled as she watched him in the mirror. He'd just pulled on his robes when she said, "Perhaps a dance, just to torment him a bit. He hasn't been visiting me often enough."

Harry smiled back at her reflection. "It's a plan then. Be sure to send me an owl if he starts taking you for granted. We can have lunch at the Leaky and everyone will be convinced that I'm courting you. The _Prophet_ will go wild with speculation, and Draco might just move home to keep us apart."

"Harry, I can see that you're going to be a most useful friend. Thank you for this weekend, you gave me memories to treasure."

He wanted to kiss her goodbye, but he knew that would be crossing an invisible line that had already been drawn. Instead, he took her hand and bent to kiss it. "The pleasure was entirely mine. I'll see you at the ball." He left her rooms before he could say or do something to screw up this fragile new understanding between them.

He rushed straight for the Floo and his empty flat. As he called out his address, it occurred to him that he'd never before been bothered that there would be no one waiting for him to get home.


End file.
